


i don't mind falling (if it means i get to fly again)

by forthehonorofgayskull (weightlessbutyoumakemestrong)



Series: to be alone (without you) [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Angst, F/F, Flashbacks, I'm gay you're gay we're all gay for Catra, Jealousy, Lesbian Disaster Adora (She-Ra), Masturbation, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 13:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weightlessbutyoumakemestrong/pseuds/forthehonorofgayskull
Summary: The night after Princess Prom stretches on longer than it has any right to. Adora wants to sleep, but she can't stop thinking about the hand on her waist, and oh god, the claws on her back.She's, well, fucked.





	i don't mind falling (if it means i get to fly again)

Adora's dress is in tatters after having been ripped to shreds, but Adora will NOT make the same comparison to her heart. Of all the people she could have ~~(fallen in love with)~~ ( ~~given her heart to)~~ ( ~~allowed to claw her skin from her bones)~~ fixated on at the Prom, she had once again chosen Catra. It had been so easy to allow her gorgeous, devastating, cunning best friend ( ~~lover)~~ ( ~~her one and only)~~ ( ~~soulmate~~ ) to make a home for herself in her arms the first time. And the time after that. And all the times after that.

If she's honest, Catra had her locked in from the moment she met her.

There had always been an air of secrecy around the other young girl Shadow Weaver had raised. It was an accident that the two even met. Adora had been on flying chimp guard duty (who puts a five-year old on guard duty? Apparently Lord Hordak, that's who,) and heard a sharp yell coming from Shadow Weaver's chamber. It was unlike any other sound she had ever heard: a cross between a growl, a sigh, and a battle cry. Needless to say, Adora was intrigued and decided to investigate.

Catra had been so, so small. It's hard to imagine the person she knows is larger than life in that defensive, "I'm going to cry or hurl (you into the nearest wall)" fetal position, but that was how she found her. Adora slipped in as Shadow Weaver slipped out, and in one split second, she had an armful of teary-eyed rage contained in the world's tiniest body. It wasn't meant to happen, but something in Adora snapped, and she started to sob along with the strange (creature? animal?  ~~woah wait she talks~~ ) girl she didn't even realize she was holding. Catra did a double-take and scrambled back against the wall, glaring and practically feral.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Adora. Who ar-"

Catra had let out the sharpest peel of laughter, and goddammit if it still wasn't the most amazing sound that ever graced her ears. ( ~~except then there's the moans and sighs of pleasure and pain and love~~ )

"Adora? Who names their kid Adora? That's a stupid name."

"No it's not! What's YOUR name, stupid?"

"Catra." Adora had laughed right back, "Your name is stupider than mine!" And if they both dissolved into giggles until their tears hurt their stomachs, who needed to know? It wasn't supposed to be the start of the deepest connection she had ever known, but it was. Shadow Weaver hadn't let her have friends before Catra- made her focus on her skill development and technical combat sims- but something about the way Adora wouldn't let go of her new friend's hand must have struck a cord with the Lord's left hand woman. If she had even the tiniest sliver of a heart, it would have broken for the two girls she had raised and kept apart. Adora never stopped being angry that she could have helped Catra sooner. Catra never stopped being angry, period.

Then again, she wasn't supposed to fall in love with her best friend. But Adora did that too, happily and blindly and painlessly... until she landed at the bottom.

* * *

The night after Princess Prom stretches on longer than it has any right to. Adora wants to sleep, but she can't stop thinking about the hand on her waist. ( ~~and oh god, the claws on her back~~ )

She's, well, fucked.

Why did Catra have to take everything she loved and had ever wanted- a home, warmth, affection, desire,  ~~her~~ , ~~her~~ ,  ~~her~~ \- and demolish it? By the time Adora gets back to her room, she's exhausted and in need of a hot bath (who would have known Glimmer's "bath bombs" weren't weaponry strategies?) and a hug. Unfortunately, she gets neither. The first thing she notices when she walks in is the open closet door. After having scanned everything thoroughly that morning, she  _knew_ had been shut. Pulling out her sword, she leaps into the closet with a roundhouse kick and finds a note and...

Catra's jacket? The suit jacket is still beautiful in burgundy, matching the soft crimson of the scratches on her back. Adora picks up the note delicately, afraid of actual bath bombs exploding from underneath her coat, and reads.

_Oh Adora, princess, sweetheart._

_It was a pleasure dancing with you. It's a shame I couldn't take you back with me; I would have killed to finish what we started-_

_with claws and kisses, Catra_

Only Catra could make her blood rush in anger and into lust at the same time. Adora wanted to be happy, wanted to enjoy herself, wanted to believe their trysts between the two-hundred count threads of Horde-issued sheets had been more than a way to work off steam. She wanted to believe Catra had  _wanted_ her just as badly as she did. Yet whether she needed something only Adora could give her or not, it wasn't enough to stop her from leaving. How naïve had she been to think Catra was oblivious to the Horde's intentions? While she had probably always known something wasn't right and just couldn't parse it out, Catra  _knew._ Catra knew, talked about leaving and exploring, and made them stay anyway. If Catra had wanted to go first, there's nowhere Adora wouldn't follow. Part of her still would. If she came clawing her way back and just _asked_ , Adora would let Etheria fall to ruin. She hopes that meant something to the girl she loved, but now she'll never know.

Adora knows she wasn't entirely altruistic. Catra was right: she never stepped on the Horde's toes. As much as she loved Catra, she loved being the golden child, too. It's a guilty feeling, knowing that she would be the prodigal daughter if she returned. If she returned, her best friend would be right back to square one. The wild-eyed hellraiser would never forgive her. Selfishly, she knows that if it meant seeing Catra everyday again, she would find a way to forgive herself for hurting her. Better to love from a distance than to be apart.

 _"Why can't you just come back? Stop this, Adora. Please. I'm begging you."_ But was she begging for her Adora to come home? Or for the mighty She-Ra to see her on top?

She groans in frustration. There's no way she's going to sleep tonight.

* * *

By the time she's done with her bath, she's even more frustrated than when she found Catra's jacket. Knowing she wouldn't be able to relax until she felt the crushed velvet lining against her skin, she puts it on and dances her fingers across her pale smooth skin. Catra had looked, well, ravishing. In that moment when she first saw her, the Princess wanted nothing more than to abandon her friends and sweep the devilish smirk right off her face with a kiss.

In the moment after, her jaw dropped. Who was that beautiful woman with Catra? Why were they standing so close? Was that her new mousy plaything? Could she be... Catra's lover?  _Probably,_ her traitorous mind supplies. Who else would she be? They were matched perfectly, dressed to the nines, and devastatingly gorgeous as a couple. Adora realized bitterly that she was wearing the wrong shade of red. Wearing the wrong skin. Wearing thin. And now? Wearing green.

"Glimmer, who is that?"

"Oh wow! That's Princess Scorpia! I haven't seen her in forever. Let's go say hi."

"Hey Glimmer, look. Is that Bow and Perfuma?"

"What? Where?" It had been a good enough diversion tactic, but it allowed her to get distracted. Needless to say, Adora and Glimmer weren't exactly fit to run a recon mission. A small, selfish part of her wanted to blame it all on Glimmer, but she would only be lying to herself. Whether she could turn into an eight-foot-tall warrior goddess or not, she wasn't exactly Scorpia-beautiful. Come on. No one is that beautiful naturally... except Catra. Adora's just bitter, okay?

( _"Oh Adora, look at you." They were naked in the world's most cramped supply closet, sweaty and sated and breathless and bold. "You're beautiful. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Adora was drunk on it._

_"Ha! Good one. That'll change once we get out of the Fright Zone." And it did, but not before:_

_"I love you, Adora."_ )

She hadn't known Catra was just playing mind games with her at that point. But really, it didn't matter, did it? What happened was still going to happen one way or another. She still would have been left alone, reaching a hand out for someone who would never take it. She still would have had her heart broken. Adora hopes Catra meant it, hopes she was telling the truth and wasn't just acting on having been royally screwed. If Catra really did love her, though, wouldn't she have come with her? Yes, yes. She would have. When you love someone, you don't let them leave without you. You don't let them go anywhere you can't follow. The truth is, Catra  _could_ follow her, has the choice even now. So why won't she make it. Tears linger in Adora's eyes, and she wipes them away angrily. Enough wasted time. Catra didn't actually love her, but maybe it still meant something when she fucked her. There's no reason she can't work with that.

It never takes much to get her going. She swirls her fingers lightly from her sternum to her breasts, marks still fading from the night in the closet. Adora wants those bruises to stay, doesn't ever want them to heal. Wants a physical reminder that she was Catra's to have and hold and _hurt_. She passes a single hand against the scratches on her back, shudders as she remembers the feeling of those claws inside of her. Now the only thing clawing at her is her heart trying to jump out from her throat.

Catra might not have meant what she said, but Adora knows she still made a lasting mark, burning and scalding and loving the fiery girl who left her behind. After all, she didn't have to sneak to Bright Moon to bring Adora her jacket. She didn't have to write the suggestive note, but she did. Adora may never know why, and they'll never speak of it, but she'll return it when it's bleeding with her scent the way her heart is.

Adora pets her fingers down her stomach the way Catra loved to. She presses in the way Catra loved to, not enough to hurt, but always enough to devastate. She touches herself the way Catra loved to, fucks herself until she's begging for the ghost of their last time to save her. ( _"_ ~~ _again,_  ~~ _ ~~more, please, give me everything, Catra, please, oh god Catra, I love you.~~ ") _

Those last words before her feeble attempt at insecure humor are rushing through her veins. It's liquid heat- magma barely contained below the surface, bubbling up until the lava is dripping down her thighs. And if she's crying as she comes, still whispering "I love you" and "come back," well. That's no one's business but her own. There is still warmth left to be found by her own hand.

( _"Catra, you have to know this. No matter what happens, I'd follow you to the end of Etheria and back. I love you. I've loved you all along.")_

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to complete the follow up and it got WAY out of hand. My tumblr is adoraskull, feel free to hmu about Catradora or She-Ra in general. I love making fandom friends and I'd love to have a writing buddy to motivate my lazy ass, so. Please message me! :)
> 
> Again, please tell me if there's anything I can improve on. I welcome constructive criticism, and if you hated this as much as I did, (this literally broke my heart to write,) let me know.


End file.
